


Cowardice Runs in the Family

by FR33L0RR41N3



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: All relationships are platonic, Alternate Universe, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Hybrids, Running Away, all of those kids deserve better, definitely strays from canon just wanna let you know, fundy deserved better man, fundy kinda main character, manipulative and bad times in the beginning warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:13:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29786961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FR33L0RR41N3/pseuds/FR33L0RR41N3
Summary: When Schlatt won the election over Wilbur for L'Manberg, the former president decided to live in self-imposed exile with his son. Wilbur lives in the shadows, slowly becoming more and more obsessed with taking back his kingdom. Feeling abandoned by his father and brother, Wilbur pushes his son to grow up fast. And when the pressure becomes too much to bear, when his father has crosses the line, Fundy runs.//fundy and the boys centric, definitely a huge au, ages are all different
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity & Jschlatt, Alexis | Quackity & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Floris | Fundy & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Floris | Fundy & Wilbur Soot, Jschlatt & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Technoblade & Ranboo, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, floris | fundy & toby smith | tubbo & tommyinnit & ranboo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Cowardice Runs in the Family

**Author's Note:**

> // sorry if it’s annoying, but until fundy meets someone that refers to wilbur by his first name, he only calls wil his dad, he has no idea what he’s called. so if we’re in his perspective more or less, we’ll have no clue, as the audience, what this man’s called. that will change as fundy becomes less enamoured with his dad and such

Fundy was trying not to blame his father too much. He knew he wasn’t ready for one child, much less ready for two. 

He didn’t want to bother his father, he knew better than to do so when he was working. But Fundy was hungry. Baby Tommy had finished the last of the food last night, and Fundy had already skipped dinner himself. 

The baby was going to be hungry again. Then he would start crying, and his father would be really angry then. He thought he should risk his wrath now to hopefully avoid some later. 

So, while Baby Tommy was still asleep on their little cot, Fundy snuck out of his room and into what his father called his War Room. 

His father was hunched over his desk, muttering to himself. He was tightly clutching at strands of his dark hair. 

Fundy watched silently for a few moments. He had hoped his father was in a better mood, but he should have known better. Ever since Grandpa Phil had dropped off the baby, and refused to help his father, the man had fallen into an even deeper pit of despair. 

Where before, if Fundy was cute, his father would put down his work and take him for a walk in the woods surrounding their hideout. Maybe they would collect honey and he’d make Fundy a sweet treat. Or he would take the boy to the river to play in the cool water. On those days, his father’s clouded eyes would clear and his smile would be as bright as  _ before _ . 

Those days seemed so far away now, not the mere month that had passed. 

Fundy weighed his options internally. He could wait and see if the mood maybe passed, but then he ran the risk of Baby Tommy crying and his father  _ hated his crying _ . Then he’d make Fundy soothe him or threaten to leave him in a hole somewhere until he learned not to cry, again. Then Fundy would have to fight his own tears and that would just escalate the situation even further. Or he could interrupt his father now, deal with a little bit of yelling, probably dodge something thrown at him, and he would maybe get food by nightfall. 

He tilted his head. Not much of a choice, then. 

Fundy cleared his throat. “Daddy?” 

His father pulled his hair even tighter for a moment, before letting the strands fall limp. 

“Fundy,” he made a terrible attempt at sounding jovial. “What did I tell you about interrupting Daddy when he’s working, baby?” 

“I’m sorry Daddy-” 

The man straightened his back, not moving from his chair, but still managed to be menacing while seated. “Why are you still here?” 

The small boy gulped. 

“I’m sorry, Daddy-” he tried again. 

His father whipped around to face him, brown eyes wild. “Cut to the fucking chase, you stupid child!” 

Fundy flinched back. “We’re out of food, Daddy!” 

The room fell silent. 

Fundy prayed, though to who he wasn’t sure, that Baby Tommy couldn’t hear the shouting from this far away. 

“You’re… Out of food?” His father’s tone was pure danger. 

Fundy did his best not to shake. Oh, how his father hated trembling. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“How the fuck did you manage to run out of food?! That should have lasted you till the end of the week! Am I raising a greedy, ungrateful little boy, Fundy?! Is that what I’m doing?” 

His father had gotten up at one point during his yelling, looming over Fundy who just barely reached the man’s knobby knees. Those eyes bore into his own, Fundy felt like he was caught in some sort of trap, he couldn’t look away. 

“No! No! The baby has to eat too!” 

He was afraid, for a moment, that his father wasn’t going to stop. 

After a long, tense period, his father finally looked away with a heavy sigh, seeming to lose his threatening demeanor. 

“You’re right, of course. How could I forget that I’m now responsible for two helpless children?” 

Fundy remained quiet. The question was rhetorical. 

“More children means more food. How silly of me to forget!” The man looked down at his son again, with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. “I’m sorry for losing my temper, baby.” 

He spread his arms, and after only a second of hesitation, Fundy dove into them. 

“I’m sorry, baby. How could I ever be mad at you? You’re my little champion. My baby boy. Don’t hate me. Will you ever forgive me?” 

_ Yes _ , Fundy wanted to cry.  _ I’ll always forgive you. You’re my daddy. I love you. I love you. I could never hate you. _

Instead, he let his father hold him high in his arms, rocking him like he was an actual baby again. He snuggled into the man’s neck, breathing in his familiar scent. 

He would always be his father. He would always love him.

* * *

Fundy continued to care for Tommy, as time went on. His father refused to have anything to do with him, looking at the boy that was supposed to be his younger brother with only disgust. 

It was Fundy that had to beg his father to give him fabric to make more cloth diapers for Baby Tommy. Fundy who had to feed the little boy, and do his best to muffle his cries. Fundy who did all of the laundry, washing everything in the underground waterfalls around their base. It was Fundy who also began to potty train the boy, making sure he had his own bucket and that it was always clean.

Fundy had read in a couple of the books his father let him see that there were things called toilets that would get rid of the waste for you. When he grew up, he wanted to learn how to build one. 

His father was still on a steady decline, slowly getting angrier and sadder and switching between those emotions quickly. But he was Fundy’s father, and just as the man had never given up on him, no matter how many times he had messed up, Fundy wouldn’t give up on his father either. He would leave the man a plate of food, just inside his War Room, obeying the “no foot inside” rule to the best of his ability. 

Things weren’t perfect, but they were liveable. They were predictable. Fundy knew what to do and what not to do, and what reaction those things would create. He could keep Baby Tommy safe in their shared room, quietly teaching him words or helping him stand once he was old enough. 

Things were as good as they could be. 

Then Fundy’s uncle arrived. Fundy had never heard of his uncle, just the same as he had never heard about his Grandpa, until the man had flown in with his massive wings and pretty much left a baby on their doorstep. 

It seemed his father had been expecting this visit, at least. The couple of days before, he made Fundy clean the place up, more than normal. His father wanted things spotless, which was hard when they lived in an underground hole. 

Fundy liked to think he did a good job. He was only yelled at a couple of times! 

The actual day that Fundy’s uncle arrived, his father was very nervous. He paced more than usual, and wrung his thinning hands together. 

Fundy eyed his father warily, quietly playing patty-cake with Tommy in the corner. 

Just when he thought his father was going to lose his cool and do something drastic, there came a knocking from above them, at their hidden entrance. Fundy’s father did a giddy little dance and hopped the stairs up their spiral staircase two at a time. He exchanged a few words with a person who’s voice Fundy didn’t recognize before leading them down into the main room. 

“Welcome to Pogtopia, Technoblade!” His father said grandly. His arms were spread wide, like the dirt and stone walls the new man was staring at were something to behold. 

Fundy couldn’t see the man’s eyes behind the pig mask he wore, but he could see that he wasn’t smiling. The small fox hybrid wondered once again if there was a difference between what his father could see and what everyone else saw. 

“Wilbur,” the man greeted in a deep, flat voice. 

Fundy decided at once that he didn’t like this voice. How would you tell when he was upset or when he was happy? His hands faltered in their rhythm game with Tommy, causing the toddler to look at him with his big, curious eyes. 

“You said you needed help?” 

“And what better person to call than The Blade himself?” 

The other man smirked just the tiniest bit. “You’re not wrong about that.” 

Maybe Fundy wouldn’t have quite as hard a time getting a read on him as he thought. 

Suddenly, a small coo was heard. Fundy froze, looking at his charge. 

Please, Tommy. Please. 

His father’s shoulders suddenly grew tense. 

Surprising all of them, Technoblade chuckled. “Sorry, that would be me.” 

From underneath his cloak, he drew a small bundle. It was a hybrid baby! Just like him. The child looked no older than Tommy, and was dressed warmly. He had black and white skin, obviously a mix of two other creatures. His eyes were different colors as well. One eye was a bright, ruby red, while the other was an almost neon green. 

Fundy eyed the two curiously from his corner. 

“The great Technoblade, with a fucking child?” His father chuckled, no real mirth behind it, and wiped a hand down his face. “What is it with everyone I know and fucking kids lately?” 

If Technoblade understood that his brother was actually annoyed, he gave no indication. 

“Speaking of children, where’s my little brother? Phil mentioned he left him with you.” 

Fundy’s father’s expression soured further. There was no longer a smile of any sort on his face. “Yeah, sure, ask to see the child that can’t even fucking talk to you, and not the brother who asked you here.” 

Fundy refrained from saying that Tommy had actually learned a couple of words. He knew how to say “Funny” and “Food” and “Wa’er”. He was a really bright baby, actually. Just a hard one to keep quiet. 

Technoblade glanced at the man, but he didn’t otherwise react to the statement. He instead trained his red eyes on Fundy and his charge. He did his best not to shrink back and the intense gaze. 

He wondered if Technoblade’s child was his by blood, maybe that’s where they get their red eye from. 

The piglin approached them slowly, but steadily. He knelt before them. 

“Hullo,” he said quietly. “You’re Wil’s son, right?” 

Fundy looked towards his father, who continued to look irritated with everything. He nodded wordlessly. 

“Not one for talking?” Technoblade asked. “Me neither, kid. What’s your name?” 

“Fundy.” 

Technoblade extended his hand that was not holding his child. “Nice to meet you, Fundy. I’m your Uncle Techno.” 

The boy hesitantly put his hand into his uncle’s. 

The man pulled it away, gesturing towards the child in his other arm. “And this is Ranboo, I found him in the Nether and took him home with me.” 

From the Nether? His uncle had been to the Nether? He had only heard about the place from bedtime stories. His father would tell him that was where bad little boys would go if they didn’t clean up their rooms. The days of bedtime stories were long behind them, though. 

Fundy wondered if that meant that Ranboo was bad or if it was another one of his father’s tall tales. Like when he would say they would go out to the stream again, like old times, and they never did. 

Techno looked behind Fundy towards the quiet toddler staring at him with wide, blue eyes. “Is that my little brother?” 

Fundy nodded again. 

“That’s Baby Tommy,” he replied quietly. 

Techno’s mouth quirked into a small smirk. “Hey there, Baby Tommy.” 

He holds out a hand to the toddler as well, as if expecting a handshake. 

Fundy thought was funny. Babies don’t know that stuff. After staring at the man, Tommy reached out a little pudgy hand and grabbed one of Techno’s fingers. 

“As much as I hate to interrupt a heartwarming moment,” Fundy’s father’s voice was ice cold. “But I believe we have some catching up to do, The Blade.” 

Technoblade sighed, and gently disentangled his hand from the small toddler’s. The boy made a noise of protest, and tried to hold on, but it wasn’t like he could do much. 

“Okay, Wilbur. Let’s go.” 

Fundy’s father’s eyes locked onto Ranboo. “No children in the War Room, Techno.” 

The piglin halted. “Uh…. Then what am I supposed to do with him, Wil? He’s a baby, I can’t just leave him somewhere.” 

The other man rolled his eyes. “Just give him to Fundy.” 

Techno turned so that he could look back at his nephew. “Wil…. Fundy’s a child himself. He’s like what? 5?” 

“Techno, he’s a fox hybrid, he ages faster than us. He can deal with another child.” 

Fundy could see his father was losing patience with how resistant his uncle was being. The boy decided to try and get the situation over with. He stood up and held his arms out to his cousin. “You can give me the baby. I take care of Baby Tommy all the time.” 

Technoblade glanced between his brother who pursed his lips, but said nothing, and his tiny nephew who held his small noodle arms up to him. He slowly placed Ranboo into his arms. “Take good care of him, okay?” 

Fundy nodded solemnly. He would. He took good care of Tommy. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to his cousin. That’s what Ranboo was, right? His cousin. 

Fundy watched his uncle turn around swiftly, his regal cape swishing behind him as he and his father left to the War Room. 

Fundy wasn’t sure what this meant for them, but he was glad that Tommy would at least have more company. 

* * *

Technoblade lived with them for another year at least. Fundy knew this because his uncle made a point to actually celebrate everyone’s birthdays. 

Fundy was technically five human years old, but his physical and mental age grew twice as fast. He was now ten, able to carry the toddlers around and do his chores better. Ranboo was a year older than Tommy, turning four. And Techno had told Fundy that Tommy’s birthday is technically the day that Phil had found the child. 

He had somehow convinced Fundy’s father to allow them to spend money on supplies for small cakes for each child’s special day. He also somehow got the jaded man to let the children go outside to the surrounding streams and forest once in a while. 

With this in mind, Fundy couldn’t tell if his father was “getting better” or not. It seemed more like his uncle was able to be a buffer, honestly. His temper seemed to actually grow shorter, but Techno would always be around the corner to sweep the man away from the children. 

Fundy could hear shouting and sobbing and crashing from down the hall, but he would always try to drown out the sound by singing to the children. With the way the two younger boys would curl into his lap during these times, he had a feeling he hadn’t quite succeeded. 

Fundy was beginning to see less and less of his father, he and his uncle would frequently leave on “missions”. Fundy knew they were going to the new kingdom of Manberg. Fundy knew it was because his father hated the president there. 

Fundy had been told his whole life about how the evil Schlatt betrayed his father and stole the country from him. His father was supposed to be the rightful king, he had made the country, after all. Schlatt had thrown them both out, even Fundy who was a baby at the time, and that was why they had relocated to Pogtopia. 

His father had always made it clear that they could never be seen or Schlatt would have them hunted down. That was why Fundy and the boys were never allowed out without Technoblade or Wilbur accompanying them. 

While the men were out, for hours, sometimes for days, Fundy would be in charge of the children. Ranboo and Tommy were wonderful boys, already talking more, curious about everything. 

Tommy was now upgraded to “Little Tommy” instead of “Baby Tommy”. This led to him calling Fundy “Big Fundy”, which never failed to make the fox smile. At least the toddler could properly pronounce Fundy’s name now. Ranboo had been shortened to “Boo.” And Techno had been dubbed “Techie”, which Fundy thought was a weirdly adorable nickname for a man who looked like he caused mass destruction for fun. 

It was during one of these weird lulls, nothing much going on for their little family in the underground, when Fundy woke from his sleep to shouting. 

He laid there for a moment, hearing the muffled, but still loud noises. He thought about staying in bed to avoid being caught in whatever fight was going on, but he also wanted to be prepared in case anything was going to affect him and the boys. 

He quietly slipped out of the covers, careful not to disturb the two toddlers who were sleeping side by side, and slunk into the hallway, towards the War Room.

“Wilbur, you have to give him back!” 

“Give him back?! This is our ticket, Technoblade! This is how we finally overthrow Schlatt!” 

“By using a child?! He’s a baby, Wilbur! He’s Tommy’s age for God’s sake!” 

“And?! All’s fair in war, isn’t that right, ‘The Blade’?” Wilbur said his brother’s title venomously, like it disgusted him to even say it. “Anarchy’s ‘pog’, but then you have to do some dirty work and you’ve got cold feet?! Bullshit!” 

Fundy was now just around the corner from the War Room, hiding a bit away from the open doorway. He could hear the heavy pacing of his uncle, the clinking of his armor hitting the stone floors. 

“Wilbur. There’s a difference between planning a coup and kidnapping someone’s baby! Do you not understand how over the line that is?!” 

“This is where you draw the line? Murder, terrorism, massacre, but you can’t hold a simple hostage? He can’t even fight you back!” 

“It’s not about him fighting back, in fact that’s the point, genius! This is a helpless baby who has nothing to do with any of this!” 

“He’s Schlatt’s son, he has  _ everything _ to do with this!” 

Their voices bounce endlessly off of the walls. Fundy winces, hoping that Tommy and Ranboo were still asleep.

Techno sounded like he was seconds away from ripping out Wilbur’s throat, growing more and more frustrated. Fundy’s father was just poking the man with a poisonous stick, riling him up more and more. Nevermind the fact that Fundy could now hear a child wailing, obviously not one of the boys he was responsible for. 

Fundy felt like his mind was working a snail’s pace. 

His father… had stolen Schlatt’s son? His father had stolen… the child of the President. This was, oh, this was not good. 

Fundy found himself agreeing with his uncle. Technoblade had once almost throttled Wilbur for daring to yell at Ranboo, what would Schlatt do to them when he found out they had  _ stolen _ his son? 

“You know what, Wil? I’m not doing this, give me the child. I’m taking him back.” 

“Like hell you are!” 

“This is so far from what you’re actually trying to accomplish, Wil! What are your people going to think when they find out you kidnapped someone’s toddler?” 

“They’re going to be grateful I liberated them from Schlatt’s awful rule!” 

“Is that really what you think? Are you insane?” 

“Call me what you want, but I’m the one who’s going to get shit done around here.” 

“You…” Techno didn’t even finish his sentence. Fundy heard him begin to walk towards the exit and shrank back. 

“Where are you going, Technoblade?! Are you just going to turn your back on me, like our father did?” 

“No, Wilbur! I’m going to go walk and clear my head before I strangle you! And you are going to think about what you’re actually doing for once in your life, you idiot!” 

Fundy’s uncle stormed out of the room, not paying any attention to the small hybrid plastered against the cold stone wall. Without looking back, he went up the spiral staircase and left their base. 

Fundy could only stare. 

Schlatt’s son was still crying. 

“You are our own golden ticket, Toby,” his father said softly, voice sickeningly sweet. “Hush, now. There’s no need for tears. Your Uncle Wil’s going to take great care of you… Maybe you’ll even get to see your Daddy again. If he knows what’s good for him.” 

Fundy listened to his father coo to the child with disgust. He was going to use an innocent child to force Schlatt to give up control of Manberg? 

He knew L’Manberg truly belonged to his father. He knew Schlatt shouldn’t have stole it from him. Fundy knew those things. But… what if that was Tommy or Fundy or Ranboo? 

Would Wilbur still feel like all was fair in war? Would Wilbur still feel like that was justifiable? 

Fundy was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t have time to scurry away when his father stepped out of the room, with a squirming bundle in his arms. 

Wilbur spotted the boy and smiled widely at him. Fundy couldn’t say the last time his father had smiled at him. 

“Fundy! My little champion! Just the boy I wanted to see!” Wilbur held out the child, which Fundy could now examine. 

The boy was pale, with dark brown hair, and the beginnings of horns peeking out from between strands. He had soft, droopy animal ears as well. Fundy would bet that he was a ram hybrid like his father. The boy’s eyes were full of tears and he still gave little whimpers every few seconds. 

“This here is Toby! I found him out in the woods all alone and I couldn’t leave him out there, poor thing.” 

_ Liar. _

Wilbur shook his head dramatically. “I thought he’d be much better off here. Didn’t you always want a little brother, Fundy? I need you to look after him, right? He’s very special.” 

_ He’s using me,  _ Fundy realized. His father didn’t want to take care of the child he himself had kidnapped and was instead giving the boy to Fundy who already did all of the babysitting in Pogtopia. 

The first time his father had positively acknowledged him in weeks and it was to trick him into playing nursery maid for the enemy’s child. 

Fundy wanted to be angry at this new boy who his father was at least pretended to like.

Then the little boy raised his arms out to him, squirming to get away from Wilbur who was clutching his small body a bit too tightly, and Fundy couldn’t hate him. He just couldn’t. 

Fundy took Toby into his arms, letting him cry into his shoulder. 

Looming over them both, Wilbur smiled terrifyingly. “Thank you, baby. You’re such a good boy. You know I love you, right?” 

“Yes, Daddy,” he replied simply. 

He watched his father skip away, positively pleased with himself, and felt Toby’s hot tears soak into his shirt, and felt the absence of his Uncle in the cold, dark walls, and thought about the small innocent toddlers laying in their shared bed. 

And Fundy thought to himself,  _ this can’t go on this way _ .

**Author's Note:**

> okay this is another random piece i hope doesn't just fucking die. i have a sort of direction for it, as long as nothing goes wrong lmao. please leave me any comments or ideas or thoughts or whatever you'd like !! and thank you in advance for reading !!


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